


Unmentioned Histories

by Ikol_Ichigorath



Series: Conspiracy and Shadowplay [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Oobleck Reminisces, Other, Port Goodwitch Oobleck and Torchwick were totally on a team together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 21:30:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10862475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ikol_Ichigorath/pseuds/Ikol_Ichigorath
Summary: Oobleck reminisces simpler times.





	Unmentioned Histories

_“One moment, please.” Roman’s voice was strained, abnormally so. A glance told Oobleck that his whole form had stiffened, rigid and unyielding as he stepped away from the team and back towards a side alley they had just passed._

_Oobleck was left to marvel at the iron control Roman must have had over his Aura, to be able to keep his seals so perfectly in place as they were even though he was so clearly troubled._

_“Of course Lad!” Peter’s voice boomed, and the wave of earnesty that washed from their leader was enough to cause a disturbance in its own right. “Is there something we can help with?”_

_Roman gave them a dismissive flick of his hand, a wordless ‘It’s nothing, don’t concern yourselves.’_

_The downright aggressive way he stalked into the barely shoulder width sidestreet told Bartholomew otherwise. Glynda’s discomfort with the situation broiled, rolling over him like a storm wave._

_The spectacle before him stopped his breath. A half dozen men wearing heavy-set armour, wielding stun batons and heavy bats staggered in disarray as his teammate flitted from opponent to opponent, a whirlwind of hooks and jabs pulling them off balance and directing their attacks into each other for a scant few moments of gloriously executed combat._

_It was brutal and merciless, uncaring and furious. And still, there was not even the faintest twitch of Auric disruption from Torchwick. His eyes, dark shards of jade that seemed to suck away what little light made its way into this sickeningly dilapidated alleyway, showed far more emotion than could be gleaned from the seeming absence of soul that he exhibited. He felt his own recoil in fear for the monster that danced before him._

_The fight was over as suddenly as it had started. Roman standing tall in the centre of a dark alleyway, dark jeans and blood spattered white coat cutting an imposing figure as he turned his head, observing each of his opponents in turn. Watching them writhe and moan. Clutching at injuries and, in some cases, struggling to breathe through their shattered and crushed helmets._

_Seemingly satisfied with his display of utmost dominance, Torchwick dropped to his haunches, hands moving to a pile of rags that Bartholomew hadn’t even noticed. It flinched violently as Roman’s bare hand brushed it._

_Realisation was a bullet to his gut, as was Roman pulling the beaten and abused person to their feet, slinging one of their arms over his shoulders to support their deathly thin frame. Almost absently, Bart noticed the yellow hood and rabbit ears that were virtually matted to the starving woman's scalp._

_Roman was murmuring something to the woman, he didn’t register it, looking past the two at the group of armoured assailants, at the arsenal they had been carrying… Shock batons and clubs, Dust tasers and knives._

_The arsenal, not just of a hate crime, but of people that had meant to torture and hurt and murder._

_Whatever sympathy Bartholomew had felt for them withered and died, replaced by resentment and an understanding of why Hunter-in-training Roman Torchwick had seen fit not to hold back in his beat down of the ‘civilian’ scum._

_Bart was jerked out of his musings as Roman and the victim turned to face them, the woman still leaning heavily into his frame, blood running from a broken nose and various messy cuts and gashes that adorned her form._

_Guilt roiled in his gut and he felt it dance along his soul. A rush of conflicting emotions filled the alleyway by way of Glynda’s response, Roman seemed either oblivious to it, or to be purposefully ignoring it. Though why anyone would want to cut off entire avenues of communication was a mystery to him._

_“You mind giving us a way out?” Roman’s voice was a shock to Oobleck’s system, jump starting his brain and causing him to scramble back down the alleyway, Glynda pressed herself up against a wall and let the two slip past her._

_“I’ll take miss Scarletina here to the nearest hospital.” Roman didn’t so much as slow down as he turned sideways to walk the newly dubbed Scarletina out of the alley. “If you felt like being useful, you could make sure none of those thugs are going to suffocate.”_

_The suggestion was casual, almost an afterthought._

Oobleck blinked.

Exhaled.

Tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling of his office.

“What happened to you, Roman?”

Unsurprisingly, the reports, essays, desks, photos and chairs failed to answer.


End file.
